


Disengage

by kaori



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: F/M, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-27
Updated: 2011-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaori/pseuds/kaori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of Kyouya and bikes and the thrill of speed. (Female!Dino)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disengage

Let it be known that she's a car person. She owns many and drives more than one, but her favorite is the red-polished Enzo. She loves the speed, the thrill, the comfort of reclining back into softened leather with music pulsating vibrations through the air—

But there's just something charming about the motorbike. She's perched at the end of the seat with her hands resting on the bars behind, head tilted back and staring at the wide blue sky.

Something shifts in the peripheral of her vision, large and round. She catches the object without so much as a blink. It's a helmet, entirely black with tiny purple accents of a bird in flight. She flips the thing around and peers at her reflection in the visor. She rotates it so that it's Hibari staring back at her. She sets it down in front of her.

"Yours?" she murmurs, knitting her fingers together and placing them on the helmet. She leans forward on the seat and rests her chin on top of her dainty hands.

Kyouya slants her an irritated look as he zips up his jacket. It's obviously for her, but she likes to pretend she's oblivious to it. She hums, eyes drinking in the sight of leather molding so lovingly to his physique.

She smiles, sly. "Do you think you will crash?"

This time the stare is flat and lasts for several moments longer, as if to say, "You're joking." But Kyouya's never been one to waste his breath, and she's always been able to read him too easily that the words ring loudly in her mind.

"Then—" Dina straightens with a sunny beam and throws the helmet over her shoulder. "—there's no reason for that."

Somewhere back there, Rosalia catches it swiftly.

Kyouya throws a leg over the seat after he pulls on his gloves. When he's seated, Dina slides forward, closer than necessary, her front pressed right up against his back with her bare thighs warmed by his. Her chin on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist, her hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket. This way, there's not a single inch of space between their bodies.

Kyouya says nothing at all. Dina knows he dislikes the public display of affection thing, but this, this is _different_ —

As he disengages the clutch and shifts the bike into gear, as he twists the throttle and lets the engine rev—a low, vibrating purr that expands into the quiet morning air.

As the wind combs playful fingers through the long hair tumbling down her back, dragging thick curls behind to trail like golden wings. As she pulls warm hands out of the jacket and links her fingers together over his belly. As she traces her teasingly over the hard lines of his abs.

Dina hums happily into Kyouya's ear, a delighted sound harmonized with the steady thrum of his bike.

—It's just _them_.


End file.
